A First Time for Everything
by Tirnel
Summary: Aragorn's first visit to Bree as a ranger with Halbarad. My shameless attempt to get Aragorn hammered. :P


A First Time for Everything

Summary: Aragorn's first visit to Bree as a ranger with Halbarad. My shameless attempt to get Aragorn hammered.

Spoilers: only references to my previous story "Lost Hope". You don't have to read it first, but some of the jokes may make more sense. This is kind of a sequel to it.

Rating: PG I guess for drinking and smoking. I think I'll rate it PG-13 though, just to be safe.

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR blah, blah, blah. If I did, my book would be published. Some of the conversation between Hal and Aragorn is inspired by another (I'd like to say ashamedly, but I can't) fanfic concerning these two, for the life of me, I cannot remember the title but it's from chapter two of that story. Don't flame me please for what they…ahem…do later in the story. I found it rather amusing, just cause Tolkien did not write it doesn't mean that it did not happen…. : D Not that I approve of these things but I find it amusing nonetheless.

"What is that?" Aragorn eyed the mug Halbarad had set down in front of him suspiciously.

"It's no glass of elven wine, I can tell you that. Just try it. You may like it. Besides, we are supposed to be celebrating your entrance into manhood, now drink up." Halbarad took a swallow from his own mug of the same mysterious beverage. Aragorn uncrossed one arm and reached for the cup, he lifted it to his nose and sniffed it cautiously. He wrinkled his nose at the unfamiliar smell and promptly put it down, pushing it away from him, and recrossing his arms.

"I do not think so." Aragorn had gone along with Halbarad, not sure of what he had meant by "celebrating", but he was willing to do anything to get away from Halbarad's older sister, Hiril, who followed him around like a lost puppy with big doe eyes.

The innkeeper of Bree, a one Milo Butterbur by name, approached the two rangers nervously, "Pardon me, sirs, but is something wrong with your drinks?"

"Not at all, Master Milo," Halbarad protested adamantly, "Your drinks are as good as ever. My friend here is not much of a drinker I am afraid." He assured the man.

"Oh," Milo did not seem satisfied with the answer and after a moment of awkward silence, he left to tend to other customers.

They sat there thus, Aragorn with his arms crossed, staring at Halbarad and Halbarad drinking from his mug and occasionally prodding Aragorn to drink his drink. He finished his first and ordered another one.

"You are being no fun at all, you know that don't you?" Halbarad asked him. Aragorn did not answer him. "Are you not man enough, Nancy?"

"I have asked you repeatedly not to call me that," he answered fiercely, pointing his finger at Halbarad from across the table.

"Look," Halbarad set his mug down and leaned forward with his arms on the table. "You are going to have to start acting human sometime if you want to blend in around here. Humans, in general, do not sit up straight, talk eloquently, wear their hair long and braided into hundreds of thousands of braids, are constantly clean, sing all the time, or burst into song for nor reason, for that matter, and they especially do not prance when they walk."

Aragorn's face showed he was deeply offended as he yelled, "I do _not_ prance!" Everyone in the Prancing Pony turned to look at him and he suddenly wished he was very small or could disappear.

"You sure had me fooled. I mean, you about look like you are going to break into dance with each step."

"And just what is your opinion of how a human should act?"

"Bad manners, bad speech, dirty, hair short and mussy, that sort of thing."

"You mean, just like you."

"Exactly!"

Aragorn rolled his eyes and growled slightly. This was going nowhere, so Halbarad changed tactics.

"Think about this, if you act more human, Hiril may hang on you less and leave you alone," He smiled. At this, Aragorn perked up.

"Do you think so?"

"It's worth a shot. There's a first time for everything."

Aragorn grabbed the mug in front of him and drained it before Halbarad could tell him, "Not so fast!" Aragorn felt dizzy and strange; sort of, tingly, and warm. Halbarad ordered him another and pulled his pipe out of his pocket and a bag of shireweed.

"This is something else we humans like to do, but we'll take your de-elfing process one step at a time." He put some of the weed into the pipe, lit it, and blew out a puff of smoke. "What do you think?" he motioned towards Aragorn's mug of ale with his pipe.

"It'sss…diff'rent," his words slightly slurred, he took another sip. It definitely was not elven wine.

An idea sparked into Halbarad's mind and he smiled at Aragorn, "Do you know any elven drinking games?"

"Ooooh!" Aragorn groaned at the pain in his head. His mouth was as dry as cotton and he felt like he had been the play toy of a four hundred pound troll. He opened his eyes only to shut them as quickly as the afternoon sun blinded him. He sat up slowly, holding his head. _Eru, could you please stop the world from spinning?_ He felt sick, very sick Even his hair hurt.

His hair fell around his face in his hunched over position. Confused, he slowly opened his eyes and grabbed his hair. It was short! Again! Thankfully, though, whoever cut his hair did a better job than the last person did. He tucked his hair behind his ears, only to pause when his hand hit his left ear. Was that an earring? _Oh, Valar!_ His shirt was also missing.

He glanced around himself. Aragorn was in the forest outside Bree. A moan came from next to him, he glanced over to see Halbarad coming around. "Let's not do that again," Halbarad said sitting up. He looked groggily at Aragorn, "How'd you get the earring?"

"I don't remember," Aragorn replied at a loss for he had no memory of last night past their argument about prancing.

"And your hair is cut."

"So I noticed," Aragorn grumbled, "Have you seen my shirt?"

"No…actually, I may still be drunk, but that earring actually looks pretty good on you."

"We best be getting back before Dírhael wonders what has become of us." Aragorn staggered to his feet. He helped Halbarad to his feet and turned in the direction he guessed the village to be. Halbarad noticed something written on Aragorn's lower back.

"Aragorn, who's Arwen?"

The End.

Hope you enjoyed, I did.


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